


Percy Jackson AU

by ellabell



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-29 12:14:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellabell/pseuds/ellabell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Myka's been at Camp Half-Blood for three years with her best friend, Pete.  When a mythological threat is found beyond the camp boundaries, they are granted a quest to save the missing half-blood.</p><p>Based on the Percy Jackson series, and written for AU week on tumblr.</p><p>(note: Ch1 has Myka/Sam for backstory, and the rest of this story arc is gen.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently someone else had the same idea as me, to which I say, more the merrier! 
> 
> This is the first half of this arc; the second will be posted later this week. I have another two larger story arcs sketched out in my notebook, so hopefully I'll be able to get to those eventually, just sadly not in time for AU week. (The EVENTUAL plan is Bering and Wells, but it'll take some time.)
> 
> Thank you to web for the encouragement and for planning AU week, and to typey for fixing my grammar. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

Myka stood at the edge of camp just before the protective boundary ended, staring out into the distance of the fields. She was enjoying the last bits of silence before all the other kids showed up for the summer, and while she knew that she would be excited to see everyone again, she was allowing the feelings of loneliness and separation to keep hold for just a little bit longer.

But he knew where to find her even though she had only recently taken up standing there, looking out from just this side of the line into the world that she rarely went. But she felt him coming and the harsher edge of loneliness was softened, even though the pervasive melancholy remained.

Pete gave a wide berth to the dragon guarding the fleece in what they still called Thalia’s tree, and he stopped behind her. Without even looking at him, she smiled. "Your dad literally drives the sun. How are you still afraid of the dragon?"

She could feel her best friend shrug. "Only some of us are good with the heat. Whether that’s one of my gifts or not something I actually want to really test out. Besides, _you_ hate the dragon too."

She knew that. Most days she could barely look at it, but today was different. This week was different. This week she needed to feel the terror of being this close to one of the things that still haunted her dreams. "Today's the day, Pete. My anniversary."

She could feel him move beside her but she still couldn't tear her eyes away from the horizon and his shoulder brushed hers. "Our anniversary of coming to camp together," he corrected, but she knew it was different. He got to leave. He got to go home for the school year. But her?

She could tell that Pete knew exactly what she was thinking, that she was lamenting that she was one of the few kids that stayed year-round, and he spoke again. "Leena's getting here today, maybe we can convince her to fake a prophecy and grant you a quest?"

She largely ignored him as she fingered the three beads on her own necklace signifying the number of summers she had been at the camp, and the two beads that hung on the overlapping one. At the end of this summer she would get a fourth, and Pete would get his fifth.

Sam would have gotten his seventh.

Standing there at the edge of camp, it was easy to remember his soft blue eyes, easy smile, and hair the colour of wheat as they waited together in the halls of their school, and she couldn't help the memories rushing back to her.

Because of their dyslexia and ADHD, they were the only two students at their school who had been allowed to take their exams orally, and she adored him. Sure, she was only 11 and he was 13, but somehow in the deserted hallways and after school help, they had become friends.

She had always been shy, but they had whispered their stories to each other when they got in trouble for not being able to stay still, or for answering the teachers' questions out of turn. He had told her of how he grew up on a farm half a state over, and it was only when his dad finally realized that Sam needed educational help that he couldn't provide did they move to the city. 

Sam often walked her home, and after witnessing her crushing heartache at her mother's indifference to her and at her father's displeasure, he had wrapped his arms around her and whispered his own defeats: that he felt his learning disabilities took his family away from what they were good at, from what their family's true calling was.

It had been easy to love him.

And even though she felt Pete's presence at her back and the tangible smoothness of the beads at her fingers, it was hard not to be completely swept back into the memories, to the day she first saw the beads at Sam's neck.

"What are those?" she finally asked him, spying them under his plaid shirt.

They both were constantly fidgeting – neither able to stay still for very long, and the waiting for their exams was torturous – but he stilled at the mention. "I go to this summer camp," he said softly, "for kids like me. I've gone for two years now, and I'm going to be going back to New York next month."

The emotions he was showing were conflicted and she didn't know how to answer. Was he excited to be going? Apprehensive? Why was he going to summer camp when he still had relatives who had farms that he could work at? "I went to a fencing camp last summer," she tried, hoping to find another bit of common ground between them. She tried to smooth back her unruly hair, and she was graced with a smile.

"You fence?" he asked, another of his genuine smiles gracing his face. "I took some lessons last year too."

She could feel his excitement drawing her out further, but it was then that the teachers arrived to deliver their tests. "Wait for me after?" he asked, and she nodded. "I have something I want to show you."

When they both were finished he took her to his apartment block, and then up to the roof, and she was stunned by the beauty. "It's all a garden," she breathed, turning around slowly, and even though it was only barely spring, she couldn't believe the lush vines and the rows and rows of vegetables.

His smile was stunning as he told her about each thing that he was growing, and how he loved making the things grow. A row of raspberry bushes thrived in the shade, and he pulled a few fresh tomatoes off the vine. And when she was done sampling all his treats they had a rare moment of silence as they stood together in the middle of the roof, barely moving, and Myka saw his eyes flickering to her mouth.

She had always been tall, and while she had hated the growth spurt she had just gone through, now she was appreciating the fact that she could look at Sam directly, that she didn't feel like such a kid around him, that despite her uncoordinated body and gangly limbs, he made her feel beautiful.

She had read about this moment and heard it described by narrators of audio books. And though she was only eleven, she wanted him to kiss her more than she wanted anything else.

She closed her eyes just as his sun-chapped lips made contact, softly brushing against her own for a perfect moment. She could practically feel his smile, and when she pulled back and saw that it had turned into a beaming grin, she knew that her own expression matched his.

But the moment was short-lived. "Myka," he started softly, his brows drawing together in worry. "I think we need to talk about something."

But that was all the time they had. A sound startled both of them and Sam immediately pushed her behind him, and he reached behind some vines to a hidden cabinet. 

"Swords?" Myka asked him when she saw what he pulled out, and he handed her the smaller of the two. It felt too light in her hand, and she stared at it dumbly before looking up to ask a question and, for the first time, seeing what he saw.

On the roof was some sort of giant lizard that she had never seen before, and was so frightening that her brain protested its very existence. It looked like an enormous snake with legs, or a sea serpent that managed to also grow wings. Her mind struggled to fill in the gaps, to place a name to this creature whose head was three feet above her and that had sharp teeth and pointy scales coming down the ridge of its back. And even though she was fighting against the moment of clarity, recognition assured after so many stories heard and imagined, the name came anyway. Still, she pushed it aside. "Sam, what _is_ that?" 

She was standing still and he turned slightly to grab her shoulder and shake her into the present. "It's okay," he said, not answering her question. "By its size, it's just a baby. We can fight this."

"Oh, okay," she said, still stunned. "A baby." 

"Listen to me," he said to her with urgency as he held his sword in front of them. "I thought you might have been like me, but I didn't know. They were supposed to be sending someone this week to check but if something happens to me, I need you to go to camp, okay? Ask your dad if he knows – he might not – but just get to New York, and then they'll be able to tell you everything."

She didn't have enough information to understand everything that was going on, but she held her sword in front of her, matching his stance, and waited for the monster to make its first strike.

And strike it did. It moved faster than she could have imagined – indeed, it moved faster than she should have been able to see or react to, but somewhere in the fear and the adrenaline and even in the lingering taste of Sam's lips on hers, she found her peace.

And she struck back.

She and Sam moved together as a team, back to back, fighting the monster from all angles, and just as she thought they were getting the upper hand, the strike from the creature's tail came out of nowhere.

Myka had read that in the moments before death a person would see her life flashing before her eyes, but instead all she saw was Sam. Sam laughing with her in the hallways and pulling her out of her shell. Sam hugging her when her father was disappointed in her inability to work in his bookstore, because she couldn't shelve the books in order or help with invoices. Sam cheering her up when her mom doted on her younger sister and ignored her. Sam, leaning in to give her her first kiss.

And then Sam, pushing her out of the way, and getting the full force of the swing instead.

But even as she fell, she was able to push her too-light sword into the side of the monster. She barely even noticed as it started to crumble into yellow dust around her, though, because she was focused solely on the gash through Sam's throat and the bright red liquid coming out of it.

He was already pale as she tore off her jacket and pressed it up against his neck, and he was struggling to keep his eyes open. She screamed for help while holding her jacket, but it wasn't enough, and she could see the life draining out of him. 

"Shhh," she told him as he struggled to speak, but he strained against his weakening form to get his last messages out. 

"Tell... my dad... sorry for..." he gasped, but she nodded because she knew what he was trying to say. "And tell them... I was a hero..."

Tell whom she didn't know, but she nodded anyway, her tears obscuring her vision, and she knew she only had moments left. "I'm so sorry –" she started, but he interrupted.

"No," he muttered, and he used the rest of his energy to raise his hand and cup her face. And even though he had no breath left, she could see the love in his eyes too as they finally faded, and his hand dropped.

She heard a noise behind her like a howl, and she recognized Sam's dad struggling through the debris at the door to the rooftop, and then breaking through and running towards them. Myka vaguely recognized herself being pushed aside, and he dropped beside her, cradling his son in his arms like a baby. "Did you hear?" she finally asked, not having moved for what felt like hours but had probably only been minutes. 

He nodded once, new tears springing to his eyes and he took in her disheveled state. "I thought you might have been one of them," he said, and again she had no idea what. "You have to go," he continued when she didn't answer. "There might be more, and, you have to go, get away from here. The scent is too strong. And – and take the swords."

She gulped heavily, again feeling way out of her depth, but picked back up the small sword that she had dropped earlier, and hesitated at Sam’s. She hadn't noticed it before, but it had shattered in the battle and lay in several pieces below her. "Take it," he repeated, and when she bent down to get it, she noticed Sam’s necklace on the ground, sheared off in final blow as well. Her hand hovered over it, and his voice was a croak when he said, "take that too."

His blood was still on his her hands but she threw the sword pieces into her school bag and the necklace into her pocket, and she ran, the last image of Sam being held close by his father still seared into her memory.

A slight rustling from Pete brought her back to the present, and she was no longer playing with her own necklace, but the leather rope next to hers. Sam's necklace, the one she always wore around her neck to keep his memory safe.

"You know," Pete said softly, his voice barely breaking through her barriers. "I prefer to think of this week as the one where I met my best friend."

Her shoulders shook and she finally leaned into him, letting him wrap his arms around her. He was so much bigger, now, than that twelve year old kid she met three years ago. He had been so much shorter than her, then, and extremely childish, but he managed to make her feel better.

She left Sam's apartment block in a state of shock, her feet instinctively carrying her home. "Dad," she cried out as soon as she entered the bookstore, and she found her entire family in the back room. 

She was barely able to stand amid the exhaustion of fighting and the rollercoaster of emotions. She always imagined that the day she had her first kiss would be one of the happiest of her life, but instead the terror was starting to close in and she was beginning to hyperventilate and the images of her dad and mom started to waver before her and she heard her mom yell about a gash on her arm her dad say something about nectar before she finally felt her legs give out.

Her dad caught her and placed her in a chair, and for the first time she felt pain in her arm. It felt like she was moving in slow motion, turning to look at the cut that extended across her upper arm, and she vaguely remembered one of the spikes from the monster brushing against her body, but she had been too busy at the moment to pay attention to it. Still in her haze, she could feel her dad trying to clean it out, to stop the bleeding, and she could hear her mom ordering her nine-year-old sister to her room with genuine fear in her voice. Myka didn't reflect on any of these things, though, until a small glass was put into her hands and she was told to drink.

It was unlike anything she had ever drunk before, but she recognized the flavour immediately. "Twizzlers?" She murmured between sips, and she was surprised to see a small smile grace her father's lips. She could feel the liquid inside her, warming her up, and a tugging sensation at her arm. No longer was she shaking or crying, and when she looked at her arm, the wound had already closed and was fading to a thin white line. 

"Now," her father said sternly, and she whatever comfort she took from his small smile disappeared. "What happened?"

She didn't know where to start, where she even could start, but then her mom just pointed to the sword that she still was clutching in her hand. "Warren, look. Celestial Bronze."

Myka couldn't make heads or tails from that comment, but she finally spoke. "Sam's dead," she blurted. "There was something that –"

"She has to leave, Warren. If she knows then there are going to be more, and I won't let them endanger my daughter like that –"

"—mom?" She tried to make sense of her syntax, because how would leaving protect her? Myka turned to her father looking for an explanation, and all she saw was shame. "Dad?" But he wouldn't look at her, and something in Myka snapped.

She burst from the chair and ran to her room, finally noticing that she still had her school backpack. She threw her books from it and more carefully wrapped the fragments from Sam's blade, and then filled the rest of it with some extra clothing, barely even noting what she putting in there. 

In a moment of clarity she grabbed an extra shirt and headed to the washroom to finally was Sam's blood off of her hands and to clean up where her own blood stuck to her arm. 

She threw out the shirt she was wearing. She never wanted to see it again anyway. 

When she returned to her room, her mom was there with a sad look on her face, which helped Myka finally process the mystery syntax from before. "You're not my mother, are you?"

"You were never supposed to find out this way. I know that your father didn't mean it, but when your mother falls in love with someone's mind..."

Myka just stood there, waiting for the puzzles to finally fall into place.

"And she does have such a brilliant mind. It was easy to see why your father reacted, and though he thought he was still being noble, it works differently for them. And we do love you, we just... we thought we had another year." 

Myka still had no idea what was going on and the ADHD part of her mind was spinning out of control, so she tried to find something that she could focus on. She cast her eyes around the room, and finally noticed that woman before her had a number of things on the bed with her. She pulled a ziploc bag of some weird dessert squares out and started giving her instructions. "Only eat this if you are really hurt, and if you eat too much, it may kill you." She handed the bag to Myka and she stared at it dumbly, before her mom continued. "And here's some money, it will help get you there, and some gold drachmas. I don't know how to use them, but we've been saving them for you."

Myka put each of the things into her backpack before turning back. "Get where?"

Her mom… the woman who had raised her… looked helpless, like she had reached the end of her knowledge. "Camp?"

Myka gave another look around the room at all the things that would have seemed so precious just a few hours ago, but now seemed meaningless. She wrapped the sword in a blanket and strapped it to the outside of the backpack. "New York," Myka finally answered. 

The person that she had thought was her mom shrugged, and her eyes flickered to the clock. "You've already been stationary for too long. Now that you're aware..."

Myka's eyes started to fill with tears again and she could feel her anger building inside her. "Aware of what?" she finally cried. "I still have no idea what is going on!"

"Yes, you do." Her dad's voice came from behind her, and she wanted to unleash all her fury on this man, the one who could never quite look her in the eye, who never approved of anything she did, but the look on his face stopped her. "Yes you do. What did you fight?"

She didn't even need to think. "A _drakon_."

"And what does that mean?"

"That monsters are real."

If she thought she imagined the small smile on her dad's face earlier, she knew for certain that she saw it again when he said, "and it means that heroes are real, too." She wanted to demand more of him, to ask who her mom really was, to find out the answers to all her questions, but the smile disappeared. "And you need to go."

Whatever acceptance she had read in his face a moment was gone, and she knew there was nothing more she could do. Myka slung the bag over her back and pushed past him, walking out of the room she had grown up in without a second look.

She made it two weeks before she was attacked again, and managed to fight them off without thinking too much about the fact that the creatures dive bombing from the sky were actually Stymphalian death birds. 

And they kept on coming. The birds, and the other monsters. She had been alone and on the run for a month as she made her way across the prairies, trying not to get lost and trying to outrun the one beast she couldn't kill.

It looked like a giant black mastiff, a great big dog that everyone could see and were afraid of, but it was only chasing her. It was on her scent, and it wouldn't let her go. She managed to slow it down with a few good traps, catching it in cages and buildings and losing it for a few days at a time, but it always came back after her, never quite getting close enough to reach with her sword, and never letting her rest. 

That's how she found herself in Ohio, exhausted, hungry, and dehydrated, but not daring to eat the dessert squares that were still tucked in her backpack. She clutched the small sword, knowing that it was weighted wrong for her, knowing that she was going to be off balance if the, the… _hellhound_ , her mind supplied for her, got close enough, but she clung to the idea that she could use this city to her advantage.

She had scouted the area earlier, knowing that her predator was going to catch up to her eventually and planning to make this her last stand. And she thought it was a good plan, anyway, until line of kids from a local daycare crossed her path and she had to swerve between two buildings, following the path through them, hoping to come out the other side – but she was met with a dead end. She stood, then, with her back against the wall, and dropped her bag, waiting for the beast to just come a bit closer, just near enough that she could leap out of the way at the last second, so that she could possibly push off from the wall and plunge the blade into its side...

But the beast never made it.

It stopped in its tracks, and she only just made out a single bronze arrow lodged in its neck before it exploded into yellow dust, and slowly started drifting away.

She stood there panting for moment before finally looking up and locating a boy on one of the balconies, a bow in his left hand and a giant grin on his face. "That was _awesome!_ " he cried, and he climbed down the fire escape to meet her.

When he appeared in front of her she could tell that he was about her age – though still quite a bit shorter – blonde, and incredibly excited. "Did you SEE THAT?" he exclaimed again, his voice still high pitched and he began re-enacting the monster’s approach, only pausing when he seemed to inhale some of the sulphur smelling dust.

It was only when he finally stopped that he truly looked at Myka, who hadn't moved since the monster dissolved. "Are you okay?" he asked, and Myka reacted only enough to let him take her hand. "C'mon," he said, as he started to lead her out of the alley and around the building toward a main entrance. "My mom made cookies."

As if on cue, the Pete from her present echoed the twelve year old Pete from her past, and he pulled a bag from his pocket. "C'mon, owl-eyes, my mom made cookies, and I actually saved you one."

"I don't eat sugar," she automatically replied, but they both knew that she would always eat Jane's cookies. "How many did she actually make me?"

His arms were still wrapped around her and he let her go with an extra squeeze, and then a laugh. "I don't know; I got hungry."

She felt a laugh bubble up and she was starting to feel like herself again when a scream reached their ears. Screams were not uncommon at Camp Half-Blood, but the direction from which this one came was – it was coming from the field in front of them.

Her hand immediately went to her belt but her sword wasn't there – she hadn't expected to need her weapons tonight and it was still in the armory – and she could see that Pete didn't have his collapsible bow either, but they couldn't the lack of weapons stop them, not if they were needed.

They could tell where the sound was coming from now, and it wasn't just one person. They could see five kids, two they recognized and three new ones. The screaming, though, wasn't out of fear, it was pleas for help.

Myka and Pete ran through the barrier and down the hill, noticing two others doing the same. When they reached the group, Myka could see why the group had been calling out.

They were emaciated. They were battle-scarred and weak, and all of them sported serious injuries. One was being dragged on a sort of sled, and Myka could tell she had had a broken leg, which Pete went to tend to immediately. "Let's just get them into camp," she ordered at the other kids who had come from inside the barrier, and they each grabbed someone to help.

The one Myka was half carrying seemed to be their leader, and she vaguely recognized her from the year before – she was one of the Dionysus campers, though she looked nothing like the jovial, round faced girl Myka had known.

"You have to help her," the girl was repeating over and over again, almost tugging at Myka to go the other way.

"Pete's got her, he'll help. We just have to get you all to camp."

"No, not all. We had to leave one behind. She was going to stop him, but she couldn't get away and told us to run, to get help."

Myka's blood ran cold because it sound entirely too much like the memory she had just been caught in, but she was silent until they made it past the tree and onto safe ground. "What do you mean, who was left behind?"

"She said her name was Claudia. We need to save her from the institution."

Myka could feel her eyebrows arching upwards and Pete was listening to what was being said. The girl continued with fear in her voice, "We need to save her from MacPherson."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, turns out I'm not as fast of a writer as I thought, and there's WAY more story here that I originally believed. Still have the story mapped out; it's just taking more words than anticipated. This was started as part of AU on tumblr, and I'm excited to keep going with it! Thanks to typey for the beta, any remaining mistakes are my own.

Once they had gotten the five hurt halfbloods across the border and into the camp, they were they flagged down a bunch of the other Apollo kids who took them to the big house for treatment. Pete said help would primarily be food and water in their condition, and Myka's own stomach rumbled in response. She looked around in surprise at the camp around her, taking in the movements and activities of the other campers. Was it actually already dinner time? Where had the day gone?

But she knew. It was easy for her to lose track of time, this week especially, when she was lost in the crushing feelings of guilt and inadequacy, when she wallowed for hours as she waited for her friends to come back and wanted the one who wouldn't.

It was the conflicting emotions that got to her. She was such a solitary person, but she was always so happy whenever the camp filled back up with full hustle and bustle of all the heroes, running around, playing capture the flag, sword fighting, having chariot races, learning about monsters…

There was an adjustment period, going from being one of the only kids at camp to one of many, but Pete wouldn't let her pull away, and he dragged her towards the dining pavilion. The tables were once set up by cabin, but since all the minor gods' children had started coming to camp, there was just not enough room and everyone just sat where they wanted.

When they got there, Pete waved at Leena, the oracle, and Myka smiled despite the lingering feelings of sadness. Leena always had a way of making things better.

"Is it true?" Leena asked as soon as they sat down. "They're saying that those half-bloods you helped across the border had been tortured."

And just like Pete did, Leena knew how to get Myka out of her funk: asking questions. Myka's need to understand the situation was just too strong to let herself stay mired in dark thoughts, and she turned to Pete. "Have you ever seen anything like that before?"

"You were pretty ragged when I first met you," he said off-handedly. Myka could feel the cold that she had only just pushed away start to find its way back into her veins, and she paled. "Hey, I'm sorry," Pete said, scooting closer to her and putting his arm around her shoulders. "It's just –"

He looked to Leena helplessly and she responded seriously. "Monsters don't torture, they kill. So if it wasn't a monster, then…"

She trailed off and didn't have a chance to continue, because their current activities director, Artie, came into the dining hall. As mythical creatures went, the satyr wasn't very intimidating or awe inspiring, but he had safely brought almost all of the campers to the camp without incident. There were young satyrs in schools across the country looking for potential half-bloods, but it was always Artie who went to get them, brought them in safely, and then helped train them to become heroes.

He also had become more of a father figure to Myka in the past few years than her dad ever was, and even though she had seen him only this morning, when she saw his eyes scan over the pavilion until they found hers, she felt some of her gloom lift, and she smiled.

"Another summer has come!" he cried out and everyone cheered, despite the tension in the room and the questions that everyone wanted answered. "I am happy to see you have all returned for another season of training. New things to note: the forest has been restocked with a few monsters for training, so don't go in unless you're ready to do battle, and the library has had a full overhauling over the winter with many more audio books and Greek translations available. Now, for regular business…"

"That was your project, wasn't it?" Leena whispered to her while Artie gave out camp schedules and assigned the unclaimed kids to the Hermes cabin, and Myka ducked her head, shyly. The brains of the demi-gods worked differently; it's why most of them had ADHD and were dyslexic. They were hard-wired for battle and reading Greek.

"Once I could find the similarities between ancient Greek and modern, it was easy to learn to speak the language and then I got in touch with some booksellers in Greece to get all the classics sent over. I've set up a partnership too for translating works and –"

Pete waved her off playfully. "We get it, kid of the goddess of wisdom, you're smart."

She punched his arm. "Kid of the god of poetry, shouldn't you at least be literate?"

He was about to retort when Artie came and stood next to them, staring at the over his glasses, but Myka still caught the smile in his eyes. He cleared his throat, then, and the entire room of ADHD campers stilled. "As you know, we had five half-bloods come to us today in serious medical need. We still don't know what caused this, but I'd like to thank those who helped them across the camp boundary." He placed his hand on Myka's shoulder, and she felt a blush rise in her chest. "I'll keep you updated as we learn more. In the meantime, get settled in, tomorrow will be –"

But he was cut off by Leena rising from her seat, her eyes growing glassy and a weird green aura becoming visible around her. They had all seen her do this before, but that didn't mean that they weren't all silent as the raspy and ancient voice of the oracle spoke from within her. Green mist was billowing around her feet, and when she opened her mouth, emerald smoke accompanied the words.

_Wearer of seven and owner of four,_   
_Together shall journey back to their source,_   
_To lead them to the unclaimed son,_   
_And see the beacon for enemies undone._

Pete was ready and caught Leena as she collapsed into his arms, and he set her carefully on a nearby bench until she woke up on her own. All eyes snapped back to Artie, who looked uncomfortable. "Well, I suppose we should adjourn to the campfire?"

***

The Apollo kids led the customary sing-a-long and festivities, though the fire that normally leapt through the campers' excitement stayed low and dull. In fact, it seemed that only Pete, who was leading the s'more making, was truly excited.

Myka, though, sat with the rest of the Athena cabin as her family analyzed and discussed the latest prophesy. "Wearer and owner of what?" one exclaimed, but the pieces were already falling into place inside her head.

"Beads," she murmured, almost afraid to say it out loud, because then it might be true. But, the rest of her cabin nodded. She knew she was right.

"Who's been here for seven years, though?" another asked, and they looked around. Even the oldest campers weren't supposed to be getting their seventh bead until the end of summer, which left…

All twelve heads turned to her, and she wished that she could sink down through the bench and disappear, but instead even more heads turned her way. "Hey, that's right!" another voice said, getting more attention, and stopping the singing all together. "You wear Sam's necklace. You have seven."

It wasn’t that Myka didn't want to be granted a quest. In fact, she yearned for it. Living at the camp year round made her anxious to go out and experience the world, test her training against what was actually out there, but…

But it was the rest of the prophesy that stilled her. _Together shall journey back to their source._ There was nothing that she wanted less than to go back and visit where she grew up… but prophesies were tricky. Maybe it wasn't _her_ home, maybe it the source of something else?

She noticed that everyone had grown quiet again, and she looked at Artie, who seemed to be waiting for her permission to start. She nodded once, and he began. He repeated the words that Leena had spoken earlier, and while everyone's eyes were on Artie, Leena came and sat beside her, gently placing a hand on her arm. "I know what you're worried about," she whispered softly. "And it will be okay."

"Another prophesy?" Myka asked hopefully.

Leena shook her head. "No. But I know you. You're strong. You and Pete will succeed."

"Pete?" she questioned quietly, but then she realized that all eyes were back on her.

Artie repeated his command. "Myka, child of Athena, will you please stand?" She did so carefully, hating the attention, but with Leena beside her, she also felt warmth inside that she didn't have before. "You are the only one currently at camp to wear seven beads. Do you accept the quest?"

She looked around at the rest of the campers. She didn't have a lot of friends, but she was generally well liked people seemed to respect her, but she was overwhelmed by the amount of support she saw reflected back at her. "I do."

Artie then requested that all the campers who currently held exactly four beads on their necklaces to stand, and all eyes turned to the person that they all knew she would pick. "Peter, child of Apollo," she said solemnly, reciting the words that they had all learned to say. "Will you join me on the quest?"

"Heck, yeah!" he exclaimed, and everyone laughed at his enthusiasm, and when he punched the air, everyone cheered.

Everyone except Artie, whose fingers had been brought to his lips in what looked like contemplative thought, but Myka lost track of him once the celebrations truly began.

***

Myka and Pete were sent to bed due to their early-morning departure, but Myka couldn't sleep. Her brain buzzed with all the possible unknowns for this mission, and there were so many. Even though it had never been expressed, it _had_ to be about whatever happened to those five campers, right?

After staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours, she carefully got up, put on her shoes and grabbed a sweater, and crept out of her cabin. But where was she going to go?

She had made it only a few steps to the big house before she heard another door close, and Pete was soon behind her. "I got a vibe," was all he said. She had long ago accepted that a son of the god of prophesies might have certain gifts, but that didn't mean that she still didn't find them annoying at times.

Tonight it was soothing.

It didn't take long before they made their way into the infirmary and they found Argus, the camp's security. As soon as Myka and Pete approached, she saw his lips curl upward in a smile and then every one of his hundred eyes blinked at the same time, very slowly, with just enough time for the two of them to creep into the room.

"What are you looking for?" Pete whispered as soon as they got into the room with the sleeping campers, and he looked at Myka expectantly.

"I don't know, but there _has_ to be more to their story, right? See what you can get from their charts."

Between her eidetic memory and his healing skills, they were able to make sense of the unfamiliar words and jargon, and how they were still suffering. For the most part, they were just dehydrated and malnourished. A bunch of them suffered injuries that they would normally see on the campers after they had seen battle. But some of them seemed to already have too many.

"This one has a lot of needle marks on her arm," Pete said, running is fingers over them. "They're scarred over, like they've healed, but they're definitely there."

"Like… drug use?"

Pete squinted. "More like they had blood drawn." He moved his hands over the arm and forehead of the girl he was looking at, and when he finished she looked more relaxed, like she was in a more restful sleep.

Myka looked at the arms of the boy that she was looking at, but there weren’t any needle marks; instead, there were faint lines across his upper arms, almost like burn marks. "I just don't get it. What happened to them? What were they trying to get away from? What's the institution?" She shook her head. "There _has_ to be an explanation for this."

"Indeed there is, Miss Bering." The voice that answered wasn't entirely unexpected, but it made them jump anyway.

"Whoa, Mrs. F," Pete exclaimed, forgetting to be quiet, and getting hit in the arm as Myka shushed him.

The god studied them carefully. "Meet me in the recreation room. I'll be there in three minutes," she finally said, and Pete and Myka hurried out of there.

Myka's stomach felt like it was in a giant knot, but Pete once again knew how to distract her. "Why do even call her Mrs. F? Her name is Eirene."

Myka rolled her eyes at him, knowing exactly what he was trying to do, but answered anyway. "She's the minor god of peace," she replied, not even having to think about it. "But names hold power, so she likes to go by the Germanic version. Frederic means ‘peaceful ruler’."

"Indeed it does, Miss Bering," the goddess replied, suddenly appearing in the room with them. "And I hope I serve the camp well. After the apathy of its previous patron –" She stopped herself, and got back to the task at hand.

"As you may know, it has only been recently that the minor gods have had representation at this camp, and it was not always the case that the children of the gods had to be claimed by their godly parents by the time they were thirteen. Indeed, many mortals had no knowledge of their children's true parentage, and those children had been forced to fight for themselves in a world that they didn't understand."

"So you're saying that this unclaimed son thing is from before the gods had to claim their children?" Pete asked.

"That is for you to decide. Gods cannot interfere in heroes' quests; I can only give you the context required for this particular prophesy."

It was quiet for a moment and Myka studied Pete, who was giving her an odd look. "Pete?" she finally prompted. "Do you have a vibe?"

"Only that… there's something else, something that Mrs. F isn't telling us that's worrying her."

Mrs. Frederic pursed her lips, and gave a brief nod. "There's something that has intrigued me about Miss Bering." She paused and Myka and Pete leaned forward, entranced by her words. "I have heard the accounts of your journey from your father's house in Colorado to when you met Mr. Lattimer in Ohio. Normally, that concentration of monsters only occurs when there are several demigods traveling together, or one of them is a child of the Big Three."

Myka and Pete exchanged a look – she meant the children of Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, but there were very few children born to them in the past 70 years. Was there another reason that the monsters were after her? Was that the reason that Artie never encouraged her to reach out to her dad, or go to one of the boarding schools in New York that some of the other campers went to, or even told her that she shouldn't accept Pete's mom's invitation for her to stay with them for the school year? Was she kept at camp on purpose?

And, if any of those things were true, did that mean that she was putting Pete in danger by bringing him on this quest?

Pete shook his head like he had followed her thoughts exactly. "You are _not_ getting rid of me that easily."

She shoved him in the arm and cracked a smile, and when they turned back to Mrs. Frederic, she was gone.

***

The next morning was hard. Myka had barely gotten any sleep after they went back to their cabins, and when she did sleep, her dreams were haunted.

Demigod children seldom had entirely normal dreams. It wasn't just the Oracle or the Apollo cabin that could get prophesies, and it was that kind of dreams that troubled Myka that night. It was like the dream was waiting for her, and she immediately got pulled into a room with very high ceilings, what looked like sheet plastic walls, and ten beds surrounded by medical equipment. They were all empty, though, except for one.

It wasn't like Myka was watching a television or movie, or even like one of the Iris messages that Pete sent her periodically – she was able to walk around, though she knew no one would be able to see her. She approached the one occupied bed and found a girl, about eleven years old, strapped in. Her arms were fixed up beside her and leather straps held down her entire body. Her mouth was gagged. It looked like something Myka would have seen on some sort of old horror movie.

And the girl was tiny. She already had a thin frame but it looked like she must have been fed only the absolute minimum, and her muscles had atrophied from being stationary for so long. She didn't look like she'd be able to stand, never mind fight, and Myka wondered why she even needed to be strapped down.

Myka heard a rustling behind her and she turned to see tall, slender man coming in through the plastic sheeting. She was able to catch sight of rows of boxes and shelving units behind him, but as soon as he entered the makeshift room whatever clues she might have been able to gather on their location were gone.

"Claudia," the man said slowly and quietly, and the girl's eyes snapped open, bouncing around the room quickly to the beds, and almost looking relieved when she saw they were empty. But then her eyes focused on the man. "Yes, your little friends managed to get away." He paused, and Myka made note, now, that he had an English accent, but she didn't have the experience to figure out what region it might be. "And that means," he continued, "that you are all that's left for me to test."

Myka shuddered on the girl's behalf; the girl she now knew was the one who had been left behind. The man seemed calm, disciplined, even, and the way that he measured his words made him sound all the more dangerous.

The girl in the bed struggled against her bonds, and Myka could see the fear in her eyes as he moved towards what looked like a crash cart, complete with electrodes. "We'll have to move in the morning," the almost cooed at her. "I suspect your friends will have made it to camp by now, and they'll be sending someone on a _quest_ to come find you."

He spat out the word _quest_ with bitterness and hate, and Myka was startled to realize he truly knew what he was talking about. He must have gotten a lot of information from the escaped campers. Myka watched as he picked up a notebook that had a familiar logo on it; he appeared to be going over some numbers or calculations. "Yes," he said, seemingly talking to himself. "I think that will do nicely."

He then set down the notebook -- where had she seen that logo before? -- and walked over to the machine. Myka saw sparks of electricity jump between the two electrode wands he lifted in the air, and the fear in the girl's eyes grow. He had done this before.

And when the wands touched her temple, there was a moment before Claudia's eyes snapped closed and her body started thrashing that they locked gazes and Myka knew that Claudia could see her. "Help me," Claudia moaned when the current had stopped coursing through her brain, and she lay, twitching, on the thin mattress, still managing to find Myka's eyes. "Save me, please."

"There's no one here to help you, little girl." He said, packing away the device. "And we'll be gone within the hour." He turned quickly and exited the room.

"I'm coming for you, Claudia," Myka said to her, hoping her message was getting through, even as she could feel the dream pulling away from her, and awareness penetrating her unconscious state. "Stay strong, I'm coming for you."

She awoke to one of her cabin mates shaking her slightly, and he telling her that it was time, that Pete, Artie, and Leena were waiting for her. The quest was about to begin. And though she didn't know where they would end up, there was one thing she knew for certain.

The man she saw in the dream was the man they were looking for. It was MacPherson.


End file.
